


Soap

by areyoureddiekids



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Swearing, areyoureddiekids, fluff at the end, follow my tumblr, might do one more chap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-06 03:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoureddiekids/pseuds/areyoureddiekids
Summary: Eddie understands that Bev is too smart for her own good.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm going to do a part 2 to this, so if the end doesn't satisfy you, just wait for more. It goes a little AU in places that you'll notice, but yeah, w/e. Enjoy! also follow my tumblr, it's areyoureddiekids. I'm taking lots of requests!

Eddie understands that Bev is too smart for her own good. 

He isn’t sure whether it’s because her dad was a fucking creep so she had to be smart, or because she was a girl and girls always seemed to be smarter. That’s what his Ma said, anyway. Whilst she insisted that Eddie was the most brilliant being to grace the Earth’s surface (he would blush a deep pink and swat her hands away and call her mommy because she liked it when he did that), she would also say that girls, at this age, were just a little smarter than boys.

Still, he thinks maybe Bev realised before he did. He remembers, of course, the exact moment in which he realised he had a stupid fucking boner for Richie Tozier. It had been in that Summer of It, when they had wandered into the Neibolt House and Eddie had been left in that hallway with that fucking leper. In that moment, when terror seized at him as the door quickly began to slam shut, he didn’t care about Bill. 

Well, that sounds rather shitty. He did care about Bill, but he realised he cared about Richie more. He was shit-scared for himself, obviously. There had been a split second after the floor caved through and he fell through with it, that he desperately wished Richie was okay and that they had never fucking entered that creepy as fuck house. 

‘That’s when you realised?’ Bev asks him, as they sit on the side of the road with their bikes strewn beside them. They’re fourteen and its summer and it’s been exactly a year. Eddie looks sharply at her, hands grasped tightly before him, and watches as she leans back with her bare and freckled shoulders catching the sun, and raises her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Jesus, Eddie’.

He thinks, then, that he must have been in love with Richie Tozier for far longer than that, and that Bev had noticed, too.

‘He’s going to hate me,’ Eddie says, and his voice is small and pathetic. He hates his voice. Hates how weak it sounds when he’s upset, or in the presence of his mother. I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, he had shouted, and where was that bravery now? Bev had cornered him after the others had left just twenty minutes ago, in which Richie had loudly stated he was going to try and kiss Gabrielle Carter tomorrow at the arcade. Bill had rolled his eyes, Ben had looked at Bev, Mike had kicked the floor, and Stan had scoffed with his hands buried into his pockets. 

Eddie’s heart had practically fallen out of his butt, and when he looked around the circle (away from Richie’s grinning face, because he hated the Trashmouth in that moment) he had seen Bev looking at him and he known that she knew. 

Bev smiles some kind of secret, knowing smile as she looks sideways at him, her teeth on display. ‘Will he, Kaspbrak?’ she asks, and Eddie doesn’t know the answer nor why she is talking to him like that. So, instead, he stares at her with his mouth a little agape. ‘I think my Aunt wants to move away,’ she says lowly, and Eddie nods. She had said it briefly a month ago to the Loser’s, almost in warning. Whilst the others had brushed off the idea of one of them leaving, Eddie had seen the worried look on her face. 

It had been a year since her shit dad had died, and a year since her Aunt had come to Derry for Bev. But Eddie knows, kind of, that outsiders don’t understand the strange little town, nor the people in it. 

‘You’ll be happier,’ he says, and Bev nods. She knows. She knows she needs to get away from this place, and the memories it holds.

In return, she says, ‘It’s okay, you know. I haven’t said that yet, but it’s cool, Eddie. It fits, don’t you think? You and Richie, I mean’. She shrugs as Eddie turns away from staring at the gravel in front of them, and the gum that Richie had plucked from his mouth and trodden onto the road just half an hour ago. ‘I don’t think anyone cared much about guys liking guys and girls liking girls outside of this town’.

His heart soars, because someone had finally said it. In the first few weeks of him realising how he felt about Richie, he had looked at boys and men and decided that, fuck, he was gay (it still felt odd to admit it). He had wallowed and scratched at his skin ad wished that he wasn’t sick (because his mom said that homosexuals were sick in the head and sick in the soul, and Eddie doesn’t want to be sick). He wants to sob, but he instead gazes at her with his skinny and short legs kicked out in front of him and nods with a tight swallow.

‘Thanks, Bev’.

She nods and leaves him with a tight hug that was so Bev-like and a soft kiss to the cheek.

He tells his Ma when he gets home. Eddie thinks that maybe he was high on the adrenaline of someone accepting him, so he marches into the house after tidying up his hair, parking his bike and making sure he’s absent of any dirt, before going to the kitchen where his Ma is making watercress soup.

‘Ma,’ he says, and she turns her large body with a pointed eye and chubby fingers reaching for his skinny shoulders, taking him against her and trapping him from the outside word. The words spill out of his mouth, but he doesn’t quite know what he had said. It might have been, 'I like boys'. It might have been. 'I’m gay'. It might have been, 'That Tozier boy that you hate is the best thing in my life'.

Either way, fifteen minutes later he finds himself howling with wet cheeks and soap buried so far into his mouth that it’s a wonder he doesn’t choke. ‘Mommy, stop! Stop it!’ She doesn’t stop. She tells him he’s sick and wrong and that he doesn’t mean it, he’s just confused. Her little boy is confused.

Five minutes after that he’s running into the street and wiping away the bitter, foul taste of soap and puke from his mouth. He’s crying, and for once he doesn’t care if those bullies from school are going to be out. They always made fun of the way he looks (skinny and girly and pale), why the fuck would he care now? His Ma is screeching down the street for him, her own voice strangled with tears and desperation, but he hates her in that moment. He hates her more than he did when he realised she was giving him damn gazebos. 

Bev was wrong. People cared he was sick. His Ma cared.

Why couldn’t he just be normal? Why couldn’t he want to kiss Gabrielle Carter? Why couldn’t he look at Bev the way Bill and Ben did?

When he knocks on Richie’s door, he’s standing stock still with wet cheeks and a damp shirt and doesn’t know if it’s puke or soap water. He almost bolts when he realises whose house door he’s just knocked on because, fuck, this time he couldn’t explain why his Ma had tried to clean him and make him better. He’s not crying anymore, but when Richie opens the door with a hot pocket halfway to his mouth and his glasses askew, Eddie nearly starts balling against when Richie stares at him in horror.

‘Eds?’ he asks, hastily dropping the hot pocket and dragging Eddie into the house.

‘Don’t fucking call me that,’ Eddie hiccups, walking pathetically into the house and hating how much he likes the feel of Richie’s hands on his shoulders. He sniffles and wipes his nose and steps away from the Trashmouth. ‘Are you parent’s home?’

Richie snorts. ‘Fuck, no. Out at some party, I think’. He stares at Eddie as Eddie pats his cheeks and grimaces at the feel of sticky wetness, because he feels dirty and the taste in his mouth is making him want to hurl again. ‘What happened this time?’

It isn’t the first time Eddie has come to Richie’s door after a spat with his Ma. 

Eddie shakes his head and Richie reaches for him, plucking at the front of Eddie’s shirt with a grimace. ‘What the fuck is this?’ he asks, hand straying to Eddie’s chin as he tap it lightly, urging Eddie to look at him.

Eddie shrugs. ‘Soap water. Puke. I don’t know’.

‘Jesus fuck, Eds…’ Richie shakes his head and grinds his teeth. ‘The fuck is her issue, huh? C’mere. There’s some clothes of mine that just got out of the wash, I think. Go in the kitchen and get some water’. He’s gone before Eddie can agree.

Richie's house is nice. Nicer than Eddie’s, but not as homely. It’s a little messy and a little less lived in at the same time, as if his parents hadn’t quite bothered to make an imprint of themselves into the home. The kitchen is bare and filled with the scent of hot pocket and Cheetos. Eddie stumbles over, his shoes still on (to his horror, so he quickly kicks them off in the hallway) and pours himself a glass of water and guzzles it greedily before sitting in the chair at the bare table.

He’s survived a fucking sewer clown, yet his Ma always seems to break him.

‘You wanna watch TV?’ asks Richie as he wanders back into the kitchen and chucks Eddie a band shirt that is going to be too big on him. 

Eddie nods and Richie lingers for a moment, eyes jumping from the stain on Eddie’s shirt to the paleness of Eddie’s cheeks. ‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’

Eddie nods.

Richie goes into the sitting room as Eddie changes shirts, and he feels cleaner, thank God. He hates feeling dirty. He hates feeling sick.

But he is sick. Ma said so. Bev was wrong.

‘What happened this time?’ Richie asks, and Eddie is thankful that Richie is so good at making things seems to calm, even when they are shit. The taller boy settles into the sofa and kicks his feet out and begins flipping through the channels.

Eddie shrugs yet again, breathes in deeply and says, ‘I told her I’m gay’. His voice hitches and he winces, shoving his small self deeper into the cushions of Richie’s couch.  
Richie turns to look at Eddie so quickly that Eddie is half-surprised his glasses didn’t go flying off. His legs are sprawled out in front of him, and his thumb is lazily tapping at the remote control. He stops, and the channel that flares up is some cooking show with a large lady making red velvet cake. Eddie stares back at Richie, and Richie stares back at Eddie. Eddie almost wants to laugh at the look on Richie's face. Almost.

Richie swallows. ‘So, she shoved soap in your mouth?’

Eddie shrugs and looks away.

‘I’m gonna fuckin’ kill her’. It’s Eddie’s turn to look at Richie is bewilderment, but Richie isn’t looking at him. He’s staring out the bay window, his jaw working quickly and his eyes narrowed behind his jam jar glasses. He shakes his head, and his dark curls go flying. ‘Why the hell did you tell her, Eds?’

He gapes in offense and Richie grins, which has Eddie snapping out of it and glaring at his best friend. ‘Bev told me I wasn’t sick, so I-’

The frown is back on Richie’s face. ‘You think you’re sick?’ He sounds so sad that Eddie cringes. 

‘Ma said I am’.

‘Your fuckin’ mom also said that you had about a trillion different illnesses, and we all know how that turned out’.

Eddie glares. Richie glares back.

And Eddie does something brave, because he’s sick of feeling like weak little Eddie again. Last summer, everything changed for him. He stood up to his Ma, he stood up to a fucking killer clown, he became something other than sick little Eddie. He became like Richie and Bill and Mike and Bev and Stan – he became brave. 

So, he wants a fucking win today. 

‘Bev figured out that I like you, and she told me that was okay. Stupidly thought my Ma would think the same way’. He kicks his socked feet against the carpet and curls his fingers around the pillow he holds to his chest. Richie’s shirt his far too big on him, but he kind of likes it. He breathes in and swallows, appreciating these last few moments in which Richie isn't shouting at him to get out of his house. Would he tell the others, too? ‘She didn’t’.

There’s a pause so long and so silent that Eddie wants to get up and leave and forget this ever happened. Why did he come here? Why didn’t he go to Bill’s instead? ‘This is because of what I said about Gabrielle Carter, isn’t it?’ Eddie throws Richie a brief and nervous sideways glance. Richie sighs and shifts and Eddie stiffens. ‘Shit. I knew that was a bad idea. Bill said it would make you jealous or some shit. I didn’t think you actually liked me back, Ed’s’.

Eddie turns slowly to look at him, breathless and in awe, because Richie just told him he liked him. His fingers loosen their hold on the pillow, and his breaths come just a little bit calmer. ‘Don’t call me Ed’s, you fuck,’ he breathes.

Richie grins and reaches for his hands, tugging it away from the pillow. ‘You love it’.

‘I don’t’.

‘You love me’.

‘…’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Bev so much, even the smallest things I write of her I just want to keep going. Totally expect something Bev related coming soon. I also think I might add just one more chapter, maybe something of a time skip in three years time? What do you guys think? Also, follow my tumblr and send me requests at areyoureddiekids!

‘Bev figured out that I like you, and she told me that was okay. Stupidly thought my Ma would think the same way’. Richie watches as Eddie kicks his feet out and fiddles with the pillow he’s holding. His heart feels like it’s going to fucking explode in his chest and, holy fucking shit, Big Bill was right. Who would have fucking thought, huh? ‘She didn’t’.

Richie feels like he’s choking on air or some shit, because for the first time ever he honestly does not know what the fuck to say. He thinks back to today, when they had all been hanging out with their bikes and he had said about that girl who was in his Social Studies class. Shit. ‘This is because of what I said about Gabrielle Carter, isn’t it?’ Eddie throws Richie a brief and nervous sideways glance. Richie wants to fucking punch himself because, shit, he should have just grown a pair of balls and told Eddie how he felt. Stan was right. Bill was wrong. ‘Shit. I knew that was a bad idea. Bill said it would make you jealous or some shit. I didn’t think you actually liked me back, Ed’s’.

Richie wants to…to fucking sing when he sees the way Eddie turns to look at him, cheeks pink and eyes glassy and, shit, why was Eddie Kaspbrak so God damn cute, cute, cute? ‘Don’t call me Ed’s, you fuck,’ he breathes, and Richie really thinks he might burst out into opera or some shit. 

He grins and reaches for Eddie’s hand, tugging it away from the pillow. With how nervous Eddie looked, it was a surprise he wasn’t pulling the thing apart. With a grin at Eddie, he realises the confidence he knew so well was seeping back into his body. ‘You love it’.

‘I don’t’.

‘You love me’.

‘…’

Shit. Fuck. Eddie didn’t say no. He didn’t deny it! Rather than saying anything else, he tugs Eddie toward him and the boy protests, talking about soap and puke and Richie shrugs because, really, he would have kissed Eddie even when he was covered in all that black clown gunk in the sewers. When his chapped lips meet Eddie’s soft and small ones, he feels like he could fly or sing or fight a million demon clowns every day for the next year. 

Eddie is good and brave and funny and the jigsaw piece that Richie needs to fit snugly beside him. He’s the sun and the stars and Richie is fucking hopelessly devoted to him, and it’s fucking embarrassing how often Bill and Stan and Mike roll their eyes at him when Eddie isn’t looking and Richie has done something sappy, like offering Eddie his jumper.

Sure, Richie likes girls, but Eddie was better than any girl at school. He was Eddie Spaghetti and, holy fuck, he was kissing Richie.

He’ll have to thank Bev tomorrow.

When Eddie pulls away from the chaste kiss, Richie is all but speechless, even though he had been the one to initiate it. Eddie giggles that high pitched giggle, and Richie gives a snort and a guffaw. He’s pretty sure his face is as red as Eddie’s now. 

‘C’mon,’ says Richie, leaning back into the sofa cushions and dragging Eddie by the collar over to him. ‘My parents won’t be back ‘till late. Let’s watch some shitty film’. As Eddie settles against him, limbs stiff and nervous, Richie bites his cheek to fight a pathetic, cheesy smile from breaking across his face. 

‘Bill knows?’ Eddie murmurs, cheek pressed against Richie’s shoulder. ‘That you, er, like me, I mean’.

‘Didn’t I say that?’

‘Yes, but-’

‘Catch up, Eds. I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones who didn’t know for a while’.

‘Don’t call me Eds! I hate that!’

‘Fuckin’ liar’.

Eddie draws his head away from Richie’s shoulder and smacks him on the chest. Richie, in return, mock gapes in horror. The sight of pale and pink cheeked Eddie Kaspbrak in Richie's baggy band shirt was possibly the least fucking scary thing in the world. ‘Dipshit!’ Eddie snaps.

Richie shushes him with a sloppy kiss to the cheek that has Eddie shrieking in disgust.

-

They walk hand in hand to the creek. 

Richie had insisted they do it because, fuck it, it was the easiest way to let the Loser’s know that they’d sorted their shit out and were totally together. Eddie had fidgeted and blushed when Richie suggested this, hair still mussed from sleep and the morning sun filtering through Richie's curtains onto his face. They’d crawled to bed around 1 AM and collapsed beneath Richie’s covers. Apparently, Richie had snored all night.

They biked to the bushes and dumped their bikes there along with Bill’s Silver and the other bicycles. It’s weird, Richie thinks, as his hand slips into Eddie’s and they share a look, how easy it is to treat Eddie Kaspbrak like he’s his…boyfriend. Probably because he’s been doing it for freaking ages anyway.

The other Losers are sitting at the edge of the cliff where the rocks are, some The Cure song blaring from the speakers and most of their shirts absent in the summer heat. Eddie’s hand feels clammy in Richie’s, but he doesn’t mind. Fuck, even Richie is a little nervous as they all turn around at the sound of Eddie and Richie's sneakers scuffing against the dirt.

Mike actually laughs. ‘Finally!’ he whoops, a big grin spreading across his features when he notices their interlocked hands. 

Stan, ever the sarcastic shit (Richie doesn’t know why all their parents think Stan is so sweet, just because he’s the rabbi’s son) merely rolls his eyes and bites his cheek, as if he stopping himself from smiling. 

Ben barely looks away from Bev’s bare shoulders and bright red hair, which is just a little bit longer (Richie doesn’t know why she cut it, but he figures it has something to do with her fuck-tard dad).

Bill raises his brow and gives Richie a pointed look as they wander over, one of which makes Richie want to punch the smirk off his best friend’s face.

Bev’s smile, Richie finds, is the brightest of them all.

They settle down around the others, and Eddie’s hand holds on all the tighter to Richie’s. Their knees brush and the others watch, annoyingly creepy smiles on all of their faces. Richie is so fucking thankful in that moment that their friends aren't like the rest of Derry, with all the small minded fucks that take up the town. He glances at the Eddie, and in that moment, as he sees Eddie’s pink cheeks and wide eyes, he vows to fuck anyone up who dares fuck with his Eddie Kaspbrak.

Including his shit of a Ma.

‘Hottest couple in Derry, am I right?’ Richie cracks out, and just like that their awkward grinning faces splash into eye rolls and, ‘Shut the fuck up, Richie’s’ and suddenly they’re talking about school and Biology and, shit, has anyone done that assignment yet?

He leans over slowly, so the others can’t hear him, and murmurs lightly into Eddie’s ear, ‘I’ll walk you home, later. If she does anything, call me’. He’s not often so serious, and he knows that. He could blame it on his parents or whatever, but he doesn’t like to think on it. He's fourteen and he has a boyfriend and that's all he really cares about right now. Well, that and how much kissing he can now do to Eddie. 

Eddie must be thinking the same thing, because he blinks with wide eyes at Richie as Bev laughs at Stan’s brilliant clap-back to something Bill said. With a sneaky grin, he says, ‘Don’t be so gay, Rich’.

Rich merely shakes his head, curls flying, and gives an overexaggerated wink. ‘Only for you, Eds’.

‘Don’t call me that!’

‘You love it!’

‘I do not-’

The others stop and stare as the two bicker, until finally Bev rolls her eyes and leans back in the sun and sighs out, ‘Some things never change, I guess’.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're sixteen and Eddie loves Richie.

They’re sixteen and Bev is long gone.

Eddie remembers bits of her. He remembers a beautiful smile and red hair, and a kindness that made him understand himself more than his mother ever could. He remembers why they all loved her, but he doesn’t remember how. He remembers bad things happened that summer, and he remembers places, but he doesn’t remember conversations and realisations. 

He decides it’s best not to think on it. 

Ben left five months ago. It’s just Eddie, Richie, Stan, Bill and Mike now. Mike dropped home-schooling and came to High School with them, and Eddie is glad. He felt like they were starting to lose him before that. Maybe he stopped remembering, too.

He gets terrified, sometimes, that he’ll forget Richie. He doesn’t know why they forget, but they must, because Bev stopped calling and started forgetting, and Bev would never forget them unless something fucked up was happening.

He can’t forget Richie. Richie is so much a part of him. Richie is the day of soap and the day of first kisses, and the feel of chapped lips against his cheek and laughter against his ear. No one knows except the Loser’s Club, but Richie tells him they’ll leave one day and then they can be as gay as they fucking want.

Eddie likes the idea of that.

He never tells his mom about Richie. He tells her he was confused and scared and didn’t know what he was saying, and he knows the words make Richie angry. He wishes he could be loud and proud, because even though Richie has never told his parents he’s with Eddie, he brings Eddie round his for sleepovers every Friday and they don’t really seem to give a shit.

His mom never allows any of the boys to sleep over. She tried to get Eddie to go to therapy, but Eddie threw such a shit-fit that scared the life out of her, because how could her little boy say such terrible things?

‘What if we forget, too?’ Eddie says to Richie. They’re bundled up in Richie’s bed, and Eddie had just spent a good fifteen minutes folding clothes and filling the bin in the corner of the room. 

‘Huh?’ grumbles Richie, long legs entwined with Eddie’s, and his mop of dark curly hair tickling Eddie’s forehead. 

‘Like Bev,’ says Eddie, and Richie stiffens. He looks to Eddie slowly, his eyes still magnified from large glasses freckles kissing his cheeks, and brings a hand forward to touch Eddie’s nose. He likes touching Eddie, Eddie has found. The more they grew and their relationship solidified, the more Richie Tozier likes the explore every bit of Eddie Kaspbrak.

It’s a wonder, really, that no one at school has guessed they’re together. 

Eddie supposes that people assume it’s just Richie being Richie. They’re always been close, even as young kids. 

‘I could never forget you, idiot’ Richie assures him, dark eyebrows knitting together and red mouth pulled down at the sides. Fuck. Eddie hates making Richie sad.

‘Do you remember her?’ Eddie asks.

‘Parts,’ Richie admits sadly.

They’re cornered away in Richie’s bed, both in their boxers and baggy shirts and it’s 2 AM and they’d finished hanging out with the others two hours ago, and it is then that Eddie tells Richie he loves him.

It comes out soft and quiet and Richie all but squeezes the life out of Eddie when he says it, his grin wide and his fingers clenching at Eddie’s back and pulling him close to Richie’s chest.

‘Quit it, you douche!’ Eddie yelps. They don’t have to worry about being quiet at Richie’s, because fuck knows where his parents are. 

Richie has dragged Eddie to sit on his stomach, and Eddie has to fight a grin when he sees the beaming smile on Richie’s face. ‘Say it again,’ Richie demands, fingers bunched up in the fabric of Eddie’s shirt (it’s Richie’s shirt, really). 

Eddie rolls his eyes. ‘I love you, you dick’.

Richie leans up and kisses him, and Eddie presses his chest close to Richie’s and replies with vigour, his eyes closed and Richie’s eyelashes tickling his cheeks. He loves kissing Richie. Richie kisses with every ounce of his being, leaving nothing left unloved. He pulls away only briefly and admits, a rueful smile twisting at his lips, ‘I can’t remember the last time someone said that to me’.

Eddie feels his heart fucking break, and vows as he smashes his mouth against Richie’s once more, that he will tell Richie Tozier that he loves him every day for the rest of his life.  
There had been childish love declarations, but nothing quite like this. Eddie’s heart is swelling with love and life, and he wants to gather Richie up in his arms and never let anyone tell his Trashmouth that he is anything but perfect.

‘Oh, shit,’ Richie mumbles, pulling away. He clears his throat and grins wide. ‘Love you too, Eds,’ he quips, before pressing a sweet kiss to Eddie’s nose.

Eddie rolls his eyes and rubs his nose, before sliding off of Richie’s stomach and plonking back onto the bed beside him. ‘I’d never forget you, either,’ he assures Richie’s, lying on his side as Richie scoops an arm around him and drags Eddie closer to him.

‘How the fuck could you forget me? I’m the bomb’.

Eddie gives him a pointed look. ‘Dick’.

‘I mean, if you ask politely, Eds-’ He’s silenced by Eddie’s hand smacking against his shoulder. ‘Ow! Fucking abuse’. There’s a brief pause in which Richie glances down at Eddie and presses a chapped lipped kiss to is forehead, and Eddie brings his hand to trail it across Richie’s skinny chest. ‘Say it again,’ Richie hums.

Eddie smiles and rolls his eyes and sighs ever-so dramatically. ‘I love you, Tozier. Fuck knows why’.

He’s reminded of why as Richie’s shoots up to press his mouth against Eddie’s, and Eddie knows that he could never forget Richie Tozier. How could he forget his laugh, and his shit jokes, and the way in which he assures Eddie that his sickness isn't real, and that he'll fucking march up to Eddie's house and have it out with his mom ever Eddie every really wants him to. Eddie assures him that, no, such a thing was a terrible fucking idea. He loves his mom, but she would do bad things to keep Eddie 'safe'. Richie hums and glares and walks Eddie home, and Eddie knows he stands outside for a good five minutes before leaving every time. 

Forgetting Richie. 

How could such a thing be possible?


End file.
